


Made for this

by shootertron



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Multi, belly nipples, commander/subordinate, robot nipples
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-15 04:47:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11798721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootertron/pseuds/shootertron
Summary: Turmoil contemplates his purpose in life as he nurses his subordinates.





	Made for this

_I was made for this._

Turmoil thought, reclining. Four of his subordinates were latched onto his belly, sucking vigorously on his exposed fuel nozzles. They radiated happiness, sucking away like piglets on their mother sow.

He was no sow - a tank build, black matte metal body. A visor and blank mouthplate made his face unreadable. On his right arm was mounted a gigantic energy cannon in resting mode. He was a huge mech, twice the height of his subordinates and several times as heavy. The kind of mech who could kill unarmed, crushing heads with one hand.

He had been rolled off the assembly line like this, powerful and ready to fight. No time to enjoy a carefree childhood.

But now, he was nurturing, life giving. The four mechs drinking from him lay against his belly metal without a care in the universe, almost glowing in happiness. Today, the fuel filtered through his system was especially creamy, like flan.

Little piglets, of different colors and sires. Turmoil's processor twinged with ...love? He felt warm and calm in their presence, even as they drained his precious fuel.

It was a commander's duty to protect and lead. To provide. He felt it keenly in his spark, to protect these smaller mechs, to give them a little taste of something good.

Some Cons were recruits, and others were created to be soldiers. Turmoil looked at his wards, and thought of all those Cons who had been built. He wondered if they had someone who cared for them, loved them, as they emerged from the assembly line into a cruel universe.

Dying after a brief life as a soldier...Turmoil wondered what fate would await these underlings. What would await him. There was no end to the war in sight. He could easily die before the end.

If there was something he could do to give them a little spot of happiness…

Imagine the shock of the first soldiers picked for this, when Turmoil summoned them to a private meeting. Perhaps they were expecting to be punished for poor performance. Or be subjected to hours of bureaucratic drudge. Or for Turmoil to ask for sexual favors. Imagine the surprise when Turmoil popped the lids to his belly fuel nozzles and bid them to drink the best fuel of their lives!

Word spread quickly in these parts that tanks were programmed to protect and love their subordinates like newsparks. That they dispensed a particularly rich fuel to mechs who caught their favor. Turmoil's subordinates clamored around him, hoping for a taste and some quality time with their commander. Soon, there were so many mechs lined up, they had to take turns at his fuel nozzles.

"That's enough. Leave some for the others."

He petted each of their heads gently, signalling each of the four to unlatch.

One mech, with a red helm and a green body, opened his mouth, as if to complain that it was too soon. But upon looking up at Turmoil, he said nothing. Turmoil was still a dangerous mech and it was unwise to disobey his orders.

As soon as the four mechs filed out of his quarters, another four took their place at his teats. They too lapsed into bliss as they began to suck. Turmoil figured that if this was his purpose, it wasn’t so bad.


End file.
